The Deathly Hallows  The Alternative Version
by Zana G. Nicholson
Summary: missing it already?here's my version, with more adventure, humour, drama, plot twists, Hogwarts scenes,plus the truth about Sirius' death.very different to JKs version!Pleas R&R,ive been 3 years out of fanfic but now im back!will finish shadows story too!
1. Flame and Darkness

It was past midnight, and the only lights visible on the quiet lane came from a small, dirty street lamp, and the front window of a cottage which stood in the middle of the row. Its tiny garden was wildly overgrown, the grass almost as high as the windowsill. Its windows were cracked and filthy, its front door was missing its knocker, and there was no letterbox. Whoever lived there did not want to communicate with the outside world.

Within the cottage, in the front room, a young man sat by the fireplace. There was no fire lit, as it was mid July, but he was shivering nonetheless. He sat hunched in a shabby armchair, his knees tucked under his chin, staring blankly into space, his thin, pale face containing no vestige of its former arrogance or malice. He looked up sharply as another man stepped into the room from the hallway.

'What now?' He asked tersely, 'where are you taking me next?'

The newcomer, whose greasy hair hung in lank, black curtains that framed his face, smiled thinly. 'You know I cannot say', he replied, 'follow me please, Draco.'

Draco Malfoy glared at his former mentor defiantly and set his jaw. 'No', he said vehemently, 'I'm done.'

Severus Snape raised an eyebrow. 'Done? What do you mean by "done"?'

'I mean I won't go anywhere else with you', Draco blurted out furiously, 'I've been in six different crummy houses over the past two months and I'm sick of it. I'm not running anymore. I didn't even really do anything that anyone knows about. It was _you _who killed Dumbledore, not me!'

'Yes, Malfoy', Snape replied patiently, 'but you failed in the task the Dark Lord appointed to you, and so he is most displeased and does not wish to see you. And Harry Potter saw you on that roof and so he knows you to be his enemy. Thus, you are no friend to the Order of the Phoenix. You are, unfortunately, unwanted by anyone.'

'My mother wants me to come home', Draco spat, 'she would welcome me with open arms.'

'And would you endanger her by going home, Draco?' Snape asked quietly, 'would you risk her life?'

Draco swallowed hard, resentment glowing in his face. 'It's easy for you', he spat, 'he thinks you're brilliant, you did what I couldn't make myself do. The Order's out to get you, but so what? The Ministry won't put out a warrant for your arrest because nobody knows what happened up there. But the Dark Lord doesn't want me, I don't want to go to the Order and the Ministry don't care whether I exist or not!'

'I am protecting you, Draco', Snape answered, 'and if the Dark Lord knew it, he would not be best pleased. But I promised your mother I would look after you, and I am doing so. Now stop this self-pitying nonsense and come with me.'

Draco gave a sort of snarl and turned his back on the only friend he had left. Snape sighed in exasperation.

'Malfoy, I am not asking you, I am telling you, you must come with me. If you stay here much longer someone will notice a pattern in my arrivals here and we will be detected. You must not go home.' There was urgency in his voice, and it did not go undetected.

Draco spun around, and stared narrowly at Snape. 'Why are you so set against my going home?' he asked suspiciously, 'what difference will it make to you? My family can get by without your help and if I want to go home, that's my business. Is the Manor being watched?'

Something in Snape's face told Draco what he did not want to know. 'No', he whispered, 'no...'

In two strides, Snape had crossed the room and grabbed Malfoy's arm in a vice-like grip. He began to turn, to transport them both to somewhere else, but Malfoy swung his right fist and heard the sickening crunch as it connected with bone. With a cry, Snape released him and clapped a hand to his nose, which was pouring blood. Before Snape could catch him again, Malfoy turned and disappeared, the sound of Snape's roar of anger echoing in his ears.

Draco was quite surprised that he had apparated to the correct place; in his agitation, he had not been properly focused. But sure enough, he found himself looking up at the tall, wrought iron gates of Malfoy Manor. He laid a hand on the gate, and the large padlock fell open, allowing him to push it inwards. He could not help smiling to himself as he approached the house and relief rushed through him. He was going to see his mother...perhaps even his father...and his bedroom...

He scanned the many windows of the mansion, several of which still had lamps lighting within, until he found his parent's bedchamber. It looked like they were still awake. He grinned and sped up a little...but then he noticed that the light in the rooms was flickering...and it was too bright to be a lamp. He let out a howl and broke into a run, his insides twisting into tight knots of fear. The huge front doors stood wide open and he ran straight through them, and up the grand staircase, where he was met by a wall of flames.

_Draco...so kind of you to join us at last..._

Draco's left arm burned ferociously and he let out a cry of pain. The fire was no ordinary fire; Draco could see faces within it, evil faces that laughed at his foolishness. He pulled out his wand, and tried to pour water on the flames, but a high-pitched laughter filled his ears.

_Your schoolboy spells are no use to you here, boy. It is over. Receive your punishment like a man. _

Draco whimpered softly, unable to see where the Dark Lord was, but knowing he was within the manor. And then a thin scream reached his ears through the air and he realised his mother was trapped...she was dying.

Without another second's thought, Draco ran forwards into the flames; he could not think from the pain, he could not breathe, he could only keep moving while the mocking flames tore at his body and breathed death into his face. The doors of his mother's chamber had melted away, the entire room was full of flames. Through them, Draco saw his mother's still form on the bed and ran to her.

Narcissa Malfoy's beautiful but austere face was charred and grey, her eyes were blank. Her long, silver-blonde hair, her pride and joy, was singed and blackened. Draco did not even feel the pain of the fire anymore, as he stared into his mother's face and felt a much deeper pain inside that threatened to tear him in two.

'Poor child...and orphan now, just like Harry Potter. Your father passed away, rather tragically, last week. You didn't know, did you?'

The flames had parted and allowed Lord Voldemort through. Draco looked up, into the face of the man to whom he had sworn allegiance. His slit-like eyes, his flat nose, his long, skeletal fingers, filled Draco with a kind of disgust that he had never felt before. He wrapped his arms around his mother's body and clutched his wand tightly in his hand.

'Nowhere to run Draco. Be a man, return to your master and I will forgive you. Lord Voldemort is merciful.'

'You are not my master', Draco said, his voice hoarse and ragged, 'and I swear you'll regret this day!'

He jumped to his feet, and dragging his mother's poor body with him, he resorted not to magic, but to his basic human instinct to escape. In two steps, he was at the window, which mercifully was not surrounded by the flames.

'Run, little boy', Voldemort hissed, 'but you will not escape me.'

'Go to hell', Draco snarled, and he leapt from the windowsill, into the darkness and an almost certain death, which he welcomed.


	2. Two Owls and a Phoenix

Harry Potter woke up with a blinding pain in his scar. He knew he had had a nightmare, that he had felt fire licking at his feet and that Voldemort had been very angry. Just then, Hedwig, his snowy owl, flew in the window and hooted happily at him. Harry grinned, as the pain began to recede and he remembered that this was his last day at Number Four, Privet Drive. It was the twenty-first of July, and the Order of the Phoenix had decided to remove him from the house before the protection over it finally broke. He looked at his watch; it was only six o'clock in the morning, so it would be about several hours before anyone came to take him away. He got out of bed, and looked around his room, the room which had served as a prison every summer for six years. He had already packed most of his possessions into his school trunk, leaving only yesterday's copy of the Daily Prophet on the floor beside the bed. He went over to Hedwig, who was sitting on his chest of drawers, hooting sleepily to herself.

'Sorry Hedwig', he apologised, opening the door of her cage so she could step in. But first, she offered him her leg, where he noticed a tiny note attached by a piece of string. He untied it, thanked the owl and unrolled the note, which was actually quite long.

_Dear Harry, _

_How are you? I'm so sorry I haven't written in a while, I was really busy sorting some things out for the year, you know what I mean. I hope things haven't been too difficult with your family, you should try and have a nice goodbye with them – remember you never have to see them again after this summer if you don't want to, so it can't hurt to end things on a happy note. _

_I don't know if you realised, or if Ron told you, but he asked me to be his girlfriend. I thought I should let you know I said no. Before you ask why, I have a very good reason. Since the three of us are planning on traveling who knows where, for who knows how long, I thought it might not be a good idea to get together now. It would be a difficult time to start a relationship and I'm scared it would end badly, what with all the stress and tension we're bound be under. I also thought it would make things more awkward for the three of us. If I end up going out with Ron, I want things to work out, because if it ended, I'm not sure we could go back to being friends. I'm telling you because I think you'll understand what I mean, and in case Ron's a bit moody with me when we finally meet up. He says he understands, but I'm not sure he does!_

_Missing you loads Harry, can't wait to see you! I'm going to B in three days, so hopefully I'll see you around then_

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Harry re-read the letter twice, smiling to himself. Hermione was so practical! He had to admit that he had secretly hoped his two best friends would not get together during the summer, because he had enough on his plate without feeling like a third wheel all the time. What Hermione said made sense, but he doubted Ron would see it that way. He had just put the letter down to find some parchment and a quill to write a response when another owl shot into the room and landed, headfirst, on his bed.

'Pigwidgeon!' He cried, and the little owl hooted loudly, causing Hedwig to give a sleepy squawk of irritation. Pigwidgeon was carrying a letter for him also, and this one was from Ron.

_All right Harry? _

_Thanks for the letter, not much news here. I don't think Mum or Dad are picking you up, and I don't think you're coming straight here, but I can't be sure – can't talk here anyway. Mum's freaking out over the wedding – turns out Lupin and Tonks are getting married here too, so it's a double celebration, but that's only made Mum even more stressed. Fleur's floating about the house, 'interfering' in everything – total nightmare. Ginny's very quiet these days, mooning after you, I suppose! Hermione wrote to me the other day – shot me down. Gave me some stupid cock-and-bull story to fob me off. I knew she didn't like me. Anyway, talk to you soon mate_

_Ron_

Harry sighed in exasperation and decided to answer this note first.

_Don't be an idiot, Hermione's mad about you. You know it too, so give her a break, maybe she's talking sense! The B sounds hectic, loads better than here, but it's my last day today. Hermione says I should be nice to them today, so I might try it but I dunno how well it will work! Pity I won't be at yours for a bit, but I'll see you soon_

And then he penned a longer letter to Hermione:

_Dear Hermione,_

_Don't worry about not writing, I know it must be difficult for you. Can't wait to hear how you're explaining this to your parents. I understand what you're saying about Ron, just got a note from him giving me the general gist of your reaction. Don't make any decision because of me though, I don't mind if you two get together, in fact I think it'd be great. Will talk to Ron when I see him. _

_Had a dream last night about fire, I dunno if it means anything. It was a weird fire, there were faces in it, and it moved sort of like it was alive. Do you know is there any fire like that? _

_I'll try to kiss and make up with Duddykins and his awful parents, but I can't promise anything. Will you do me a favour, in case I don't get to B in the next few days? Tell Ginny I miss her loads. She hasn't written to me at all, but I suppose that's because of what I said to her. Just don't let Ron hear you!_

_Cheers_

_Harry_

He then gave both letters to Pigwidgeon, as Hedwig was now asleep, and brought him to the window. He watched the tiny owl zoom through the air in a zigzag pattern and smiled to himself. He counted himself very lucky to have Hermione and Ron as friends, and he could not wait to see them again. He wondered for the umpteenth time who would be taking charge of him when he left Privet Drive. He hoped it would not be too difficult to get away from them when the time came to leave and begin the search for Horcruxes. He had great faith that Hermione would come up with a brilliant plan, because he had no idea as to where they would even start looking. He knew he wanted to go to Godric's Hollow, but that was more to do with a desire to see where it had all begun, not because he genuinely believed it would be of any help in the hunt.

Harry, who had been staring blankly out the window, suddenly realised that something else was flying through the sky towards him; it was too large to be an owl, and it was also a bright shade of reddish gold, almost glowing in the early morning mist. Harry's heart began to beat faster as he realised what it was; he did not even need to hear the brief song it sang as it approached to recognize the bird as a phoenix. It did not enter his room, but alighted only inches from his face, on the windowsill.

'Fawkes?' Harry whispered in disbelief, 'is that you?'

Fawkes had departed Dumbledore's office after his death, and Harry had not expected to see him again. Slowly, afraid that he was dreaming, Harry stretched out a hand, and stroked the bright feather on Fawkes' back. The phoenix warbled at him, and gave him a knowing look. Harry then noticed for the first time the large package that Fawkes was carrying. Harry's mouth went dry. Why would Fawkes be delivering a package like a common post owl? It could only be from one person, but that person had died, Harry had seen him die, relived the moment many times each day. With trembling hands, Harry untied the package, which was quite light, and carefully placed it on the floor, not taking his eyes off the beautiful phoenix. They stared at each other for several moments, Fawkes' head cocked to one side, his eyes full of things that he could not communicate. He trilled one last, low song to Harry, and then with a graceful dip of his head, took off into the air, and disappeared with a bang and a burst of flames. A solitary feather remained, and floated slowly but purposefully down towards Harry's window. He reached out and caught it, and was immediately filled with a sense of warmth and joy. He placed the feather on top of his trunk with reverence, then taking a deep breath, turned to the package.

Not a day had passed when Harry did not feel the burden of the things he had witnessed at the end of the school year upon his shoulders. Every night, he dreamed of Dumbledore; of the potion in the basin; of the useless fake locket; of the masses of Inferi rising from the lake; of Dumbledore looking at Snape with trust in his eyes, and of Snape's act of ultimate betrayal.

There was so much Harry wanted to say to Dumbledore, so much more he had needed to learn. Deep down, he was disappointed that Dumbledore, whom he had always seen as invincible and all-powerful, had died simply because of misplaced trust in a man whom everyone else was able to see was pure evil. So much suffering surrounded Harry now, he felt as though he was suffocating. Panic rose in his throat every time he thought about Ron and Hermione, or Ginny, or the other Weasleys, because he knew that their loyalty to him would only bring them death.

He sat down underneath the window, and placed the package on his lap. A sheet of parchment was attached to the front, with Harry's name written on it in the thin, looping hand of Albus Dumbledore. Harry shivered to see it. Carefully, he pulled the parchment off the parcel and unfolded it.

_Dear Harry,_

_If you are reading this, I regret to say I am no longer there to help you. I gave Fawkes strict instructions to deliver this to you personally, and so, I assume, this has been done. I hope this letter finds you in good health, Harry and that it will help to shed a little light on the darkness ahead. Forgive me if you already know some of this, I am writing this letter at the start of your sixth year, and so it will contain some information that I have, no doubt, already imparted to you. _

_I will not mention what you know I wish to speak to you about in this letter – I have enclosed some files for you to read, which I hope will prove to be useful. Please, Harry, be careful about who you include in your plans – each person you tell will immediately be in grave danger and the more people who know, the more likely that our plan will be discovered._

_If I died violently Harry, then I must inform you that it was my wish. I greatly shortened my life when I retrieved the ring from the Gaunt family, as it was cursed. The curse is trapped in my hand, as you have noticed, but it shall not remain there for long. You must know that I asked Severus to end my life when the time came, to prevent me from falling into the hands of the maniacal Bellatrix, or into Voldemort's presence if I was not strong enough to endure I, or from having to suffer a drawn-out, accursed deatht. I know Draco Malfoy is trying to kill me, but I would rather Severus do it. I know there is no love lost between you and Draco, but he is not evil at heart, merely misguided and foolish. There is some good in Draco, Harry, and he loves his family; do not underestimate that. _

_I would suggest you go to the orphanage where Tom grew up; I would also suggest a trip to Azkaban, although that is easier said than done. There is power there that you may find useful. By all means go to Godric's Hollow, your home and your birthright. Put your trust in Remus Lupin, for a better man has never lived, although he carries great sorrow. Do not forget Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick, who will always be your faithful friends. Do not carry your burden alone Harry; share it with any who truly understand what they are undertaking. Hogwarts will be your safe harbour, in the end. Above all, my dear boy, follow your heart and your soul, for they will not lead you astray. _

_You cannot know, Harry, how sorry I am that I will not be there to guide you. I have left you some things that I believe will be useful, and remember you may always summon Fawkes, who I believe left you a gift along with this letter and package. You have a strength in you that Tom will never understand, and so you must use it at every hand's turn. I have faith in your abilities, Harry. You are a fine young wizard, who I hope will some day become an equally fine auror. As your connection with Tom grows stronger, do not forget your heart or lose yourself in the oblivion of despair that will surround you. Trust yourself and trust your friends Harry, it will be your greatest weapon. Have no mercy when the time comes – it is what Tom will expect, so it could be your downfall. _

_Cheerio for now, Harry. May we not meet again for many years to come._

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry could barely open the package, his hands were shaking so badly. When he finally ripped it open, five smaller packages rolled out onto the floor. One was labeled 'Hermione', another 'Ron'. Harry laid these on top of his trunk, to pack later. The other three had short notes written on the front. Harry picked up the smallest one, labeled 'for when all the lights have gone out', and unwrapped it; inside was Dumbledore's Deluminator. It looked very much like a cigarette lighter; Harry flicked the button on top, and his bedside lamp went out. He pressed it again, and a ball of light zoomed back to the lamp. The second parcel was a sheaf of papers, loosely bound together with ribbon, with 'My study of Tom and Horcruxes' written on the front. Finally, Harry picked up a medium-sized package that was very heavy; he wondered briefly how Fawkes had managed to carry all these things. Pulling the brown wrapping off it, he felt his heart jump as he realised that this was Dumbledore's Pensieve. Turning over the wrapping, he read the note inscribed on the front.

_For those times when you need to think outside your thoughts. Use it well. _

There was also something else concealed in the wrappings; a smaller package, which Harry opened with great care, because he sensed it was something important.

He was looking down at a small crystal vial with a golden stopper. A dense, white mist swirled around inside of it and with a jolt, Harry realised what it was without even reading the label affixed to it:

_The last thoughts of Albus Dumbledore. Open only when the end is near. _


	3. Revelations

Harry sat on the floor for a long time, his mind in a whirl. He was filled with an enormous temptation to open the vial then and there, but something made him stop. Dumbledore must have had a reason for requesting that it only be opened 'when the end is near.' Did that mean when all the Horcruxes were found and Voldemort could be destroyed? He wondered vaguely what the headmaster had bequeathed to Ron and Hermione – other items that he had felt would help them in the coming weeks and months?

And Dumbledore had not been betrayed. All the bubbling hatred Harry had felt for Severus Snape had been misplaced; Dumbledore had been right about him after all, he was not Voldemort's true servant. Although he knew it was foolish, Harry felt a childish jealousy creep over him. Why had Dumbledore not trusted him with this information before he died? Why had he allowed Harry to suffer like that, to watch him die at the hands of a man Harry despised? Even at the end, it was Snape he had trusted above all people. Harry remembered his mentor's withered, blackened hand and it made sense that that had been no normal injury, and Dumbledore had not wanted to end his life with long suffering and shame. It also explained why he had been prepared to drink the potion in the basin which had contained the fake Horcrux. He had been living on borrowed time, and had realised, finally, that Harry needed to know what he was up against. Harry felt grateful that at least he had been with Dumbledore on that last day, and he had learnt plenty about Voldemort and the Horcruxes in those last months.

He suddenly realised that his face was wet, and hastily wiped his tears away. He got to his feet, packed the Pensieve, Deluminator, phoenix feather and the makeshift book into his trunk, put Dumbledore's memories in his pocket and left his bedroom. It was now twelve o'clock and his stomach was rumbling. He went straight to the kitchen, where he found Aunt Petunia cooking something. She glanced up when he came in, an odd look on her face.

'Vernon's gone to work and Dudley spent the night at Piers' house, he won't be back 'til teatime', she informed him tersely, gazing intently at the frying pan, where three eggs and five rashers were sizzling.

'Who are you cooking for then?' Harry asked, mystified.

Petunia Dursley looked at him again, and Harry realised the expression on her face was sadness. 'You, Harry', she said quietly.

Harry stared at her, and wondered if this was in fact Mrs Weasley disguised as his aunt. 'Er...why?' he asked slowly, eyeing her warily.

And then Aunt Petunia did what Harry least expected her to do; she collapsed into a chair and burst into noisy sobs.

'I'm so sorry Harry', she sniffed, 'I'm so sorry for everything, oh God I'm sorry!'

Harry felt his jaw drop and struggled to find words to say to his aunt, who had never so much as smiled at him in the sixteen years he had known her.

'Why are you saying this now?' He asked awkwardly, his head beginning to ache, 'I mean, why've you changed your mind about me.'

Petunia looked up and took a deep breath, tears still glistening in her eyes. 'Harry, I loved Lily', she told him, 'we were so close! It hurt me so much when she left to go to that school, I felt like she had abandoned me! I so badly wanted to be able to do the wonderful things she could! I broke her heart, I rejected her, I called her a freak, Harry! Our parents kept it all hush-hush, but they were secretly proud of her. I couldn't even excel at normal school, let alone compete with magic school! I hardly ever saw her anymore; she spent her summers visiting her friends, or else they came to visit us, but they never wanted to spend time with me because I had no idea what they were talking about half the time! Oh yes, Severus, Eva, Amelia –'

'Wait a second, did you say Severus?' Harry could not believe what he was hearing. 'Severus...Snape? My mother was friends with him?'

Petunia nodded and gave a loud sniff. 'He never liked me much, but he adored Lily. Then in her final year, she stopped mentioning him in her letters. Oh Harry, she wrote to me every month, even though I never answered! Then she brought that boy James Potter home to meet our parents, and they loved him. He was so handsome, so entertaining – arrogant and self-important, I'll grant you, but he was wonderful. Four years later, they announced they were getting married. Lily begged me to go to the wedding, and I did...'

'You went to their wedding?' Harry repeated, incredulous. He wondered briefly if he was having a rather vivid hallucination. But it made sense...he remembered seeing Lily defend Snape from James and Sirius...he recalled that Lily had despised his father at one point...

'Yes', Petunia hiccoughed, 'I went. Our parents went too, although we all felt a bit out of things...I was so jealous, Harry, I was such a fool! They were so happy, all I wanted was to be like that. Oh, I embarrassed myself! I was sitting next to the best man at the wedding feast-'

'You...you were sitting beside Sirius?'

'Yes. He was such a handsome young man, and I was getting along with him so well...we talked for hours...then I tried to...I tried to kiss him...I was a little drunk, I'm afraid...but he pushed me off, said I was a silly, jealous girl, that I had hurt Lily so badly, how could he be expected to be interested in me? He had only talked to me to keep my parents and Lily happy. I ran out of the feast, I was so ashamed. I never spoke to Lily again. Two months later, Vernon, whom I had worked with for a while, proposed, and I said yes, so determined was I to prove to my sister and my parents that I could do well for myself too. Lily sent me a wedding gift, a beautiful bracelet that she said was enchanted to bring great love and luck to the wearer. I threw it out at once and I never thanked her for it. I painted Vernon a tale about my freak sister, and I said it so much that I began to believe everything I said. When I heard she had died, I refused to allow myself to mourn her. When I heard, thirteen years later, that Sirius Black was a criminal, I had closed my heart so much to them that I was not even surprised. I did not allow myself to care for you for even one moment, Harry, and I realise now what a mistake I have made. My marriage is built on lies, my son is a foolish spoilt brat and you, who needed love and someone to trust, have been alone all these years.'

'I haven't been alone', Harry replied, his mind reeling, 'I have friends. Sirius...when he died...I needed someone to talk to...and then Dumbledore...' He choked on the rest of the sentence, and did the only thing he could think of. He went and hugged his aunt, and he could feel her relief flood through him, even as he realised that she had suffered every bit as much as he.

'I was a fool to think I could wipe Lily out of my memory', she whispered, 'and to think I could forget that I had fallen in love with Sirius on that day...'

'It's okay', Harry said awkwardly, 'I...I understand, I think.'

Petunia held him away from her for a moment, and looked into his face, searching his eyes. 'Don't be frightened, Harry', she said firmly, 'you can stay here as long as you like. You have me now.'

'But Aunt Petunia', he replied, almost at a loss for words, 'I can't have you. I have to leave, it's not safe for me here. You don't understand about Voldemort, he would kill you and Uncle Vernon and Dudley even if I wasn't here, in the blink of an eye. I was going to wait for whoever's picking me up to tell you, but you'll all need to leave here too.'

Petunia looked crestfallen. 'But...I need to make amends, Harry', her voice had taken on a wildness, as she saw her chance for redemption slipping away, 'I need to do this...for Lily.'

A wave of bitterness flooded over Harry, and he was tempted to tell her it was too late for apologies now, but he couldn't do it. 'I'm sorry', he said softly, 'you can't. It would be too dangerous, we'd all be killed. But when this is all over...maybe then we can...I dunno, try and sort things out?'

Petunia looked as though Harry had just offered her a winning lottery ticket. With a squeak of joy, she threw her arms around him again, and sobbed into his shoulder, while Harry patted her on the back, unsure of what to do next. Then he remembered something she had said. 'Where did you put the bracelet, Aunt Petunia?' He asked casually.

'I gave it to a jumble sale', she replied, dabbing her eyes with her cardigan sleeve, 'I don't know who bought it. But, Harry, come with me and I'll show you some things you might...yes...' She jumped to her feet and hurried out of the kitchen, forgetting all about the breakfast she had been cooking. Harry sensibly turned the cooker off, and then followed her upstairs.

He found her flinging shoes out of the wardrobe, muttering to herself. He wondered if the stress of knowing her home was in danger had sent her off the rails. She emerged after a minute or two, clutching a large shoe box, and sat down on the bed to open it.

'These are all the letters Lily wrote to me', she said, in a choked sort of voice, 'I never replied, but I kept every single one. There's a lot of references to you, Harry. She loved you, she was so proud of you. There are a few photographs as well. Please take them all, I want you to have them. Vernon doesn't know about them. Lily was sensible enough to use the Muggle post, and Vernon was always at work when that was delivered. You see Harry, I had told him such lies about her, to make him fear and hate her, that I couldn't possibly turn around and announce I wanted to go and visit her!' She looked at him pleadingly, and he nodded slowly, understanding her predicament.

'There's one other photo', she whispered, and she went to her jewelry box on the dressing table. She pulled out the bottom drawer, and turning it over revealed a photograph taped to the bottom. It was a Muggle photograph of Sirius, with a group of people, their smiles frozen on their faces.

'I kept it', she sighed, 'to remind me of what I could have had if I hadn't been such a jealous fool. And so that I would always remember him, even though most of what I knew about him was from Lily's letters. I think I truly loved him, Harry. Does that seem silly?'

'Not at all', Harry replied softly, wanting more than anything to get away from his aunt and see that box of letters. Then something dawned on him, that could perhaps make Petunia feel better.

'When all this is over, you could maybe talk to Remus Lupin – do you remember him?'

Petunia smiled distantly. 'Oh yes, I remember him. Lovely fellow, much quieter than James or Sirius, but more genuine and honest than Peter. He always looked rather tired, I noticed. He's still alive?'

'Yeah, he's planning on getting married in a couple of weeks', Harry informed her with a grin. Petunia smiled back at him, and Harry felt a sudden rush of warmth and pity for her.

'What about Peter?' She asked innocently, 'is he still alive?'

Harry swallowed hard. Petunia may have opened up an unexpected can of worms. 'Aunt Petunia...Peter Pettigrew betrayed Lily and James...he told Voldemort where they were, killed thirteen Mug-I mean, ordinary people trying to escape, and then he framed Sirius for it all. That's why Sirius was in prison.'

Petunia clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. 'I...I never knew...Dumbledore tried to tell me what had happened, but I wouldn't let him...I didn't want to hear...I wanted to know nothing more about my sister...'

For the next hour or so, Harry took grim pleasure in recounting the details of the betrayal of his parents, the life that Sirius had been forced to lead afterwards, ending in his tragic death.

'It's as though, when I realised I would lose you, Harry, my last connection with Lily, a switch went on in my brain', Petunia explained, 'all the blows...Lily's death, Sirius' supposed crimes, and then learning of his death. I buried everything, and then when I woke up this morning, I just...exploded.'

Although still finding this all a little too bizarre to take in, Harry could not help feeling happy that at last his family was acknowledging him as a human being. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was now three o'clock. Anytime now, someone would arrive to take him away from Privet Drive for good.

'You know it's important for you all to get out of here, don't you?' Harry asked his aunt anxiously, 'I mean, Voldemort could easily take all of you, hoping to lure me to him.'

Even as he said this, Harry realised that what Petunia had done today had put him in even graver danger; if Voldemort did do something like that, Harry knew he wouldn't be able to leave his aunt to die, whatever about his uncle and cousin.

Petunia nodded. 'I'll convince Vernon, don't worry', she replied, then hesitated before speaking again. 'I don't want you to think I don't love Vernon...it's just, he's very set in his ways and he's used to getting what he wants with nobody standing in his way. Everything's black and white to him, he wouldn't understand it if I suddenly told him I miss Lily.'

Harry gave a grim smile, as he imagined Vernon Dursley turning purple with rage at the very idea. 'Better to leave things the way they are', he agreed.

There was as ring on the doorbell. Harry's heart leapt and raced down the stairs, wondering who it would be, secretly hoping it would be –

'Professor Lupin!' He cried happily as he flung the door open to reveal his disheveled looking Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, dressed in a Muggle suit and carrying a briefcase, standing on the door step, 'come in!'

'Hello Harry', Lupin said with a smile, 'I think it's time you called me Remus, it's three years since I was a professor of anything! All ready to leave?'

Harry hesitated briefly. 'I was wondering...Remus...if you remember my aunt, Petunia?'

Lupin stepped into the hallway as Harry shut the door behind him. 'Vaguely', he replied, 'I met her a few times, but she treated Lily and James like dirt. She ignored all of Lily's letters, you know. Not to mention the appalling way they've treated you. Why?'

Petunia appeared on the landing, looking down the stairs with apprehension. Harry lowered his voice so she would not hear. 'Well, we've sort of made up', he whispered, 'she explained everything to me...she was in love with Sirius...will you talk to her for a minute? I think she'd like that.'

Lupin looked startled, but rallied within seconds. Looking up the stairs at Petunia Dursley, he forced a smile. 'Petunia', he greeted her pleasantly, 'it's been a long...long time.'

Petunia walked slowly down the stairs, smiling weakly at Lupin, still dabbing her eyes. 'Remus L-Lupin', she said, her voice shaking, 'I'm so pleased to see you again.' She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, facing him, unsure of what to do next. Harry looked at them, and for a moment, he thought he could see them as they had been seventeen years ago, meeting for the first time.

Petunia opened her mouth, but Remus raised a hand to stop her. 'My dear lady', he said gently, 'they were difficult times for all of us. Although I was greatly angered by your behaviour towards Lily and James, two of my closest friends, I understand your predicament. We were young, we were foolish, I too made many mistakes in those days. Let us not let the past destroy the present. I accept that you have acknowledged your wrongdoings to Harry, and that is enough for me.'

Petunia bit her lower lip in an effort to hold back sobs, as two shiny tears slid down her face. 'Thank you', she whispered, 'I was...I am so sorry to hear that Sirius Black...'

Remus nodded. 'He meant a lot to us all...he spoke highly of you', he added as an afterthought, 'if there had not been the bad feeling between yourself and Lily...'

Harry thought this was an opportune moment to slip away and get his trunk, leaving his aunt and Remus to talk in private.

It was strange to Harry to think of Aunt Petunia as anything but a sour-faced, bitter, irritable middle-aged woman – but now, she was talking of love and family and apologizing for her mistakes...and he realised that maybe her sour manner was because of her sorrow about everything that had gone wrong. He pitied her greatly, married to Vernon Dursley, the most unfeeling, bullish man who had ever lived.

He went back into her bedroom, and took the box of letters and photgraphs, to put into his trunk. He noticed the photograph of Sirius, still lying on the bed, and he picked it up. It was a photograph from his parents' wedding – they were there too, dressed as bride and groom. James' parents, whom Harry had seen once before in the Mirror of Erised, stood to the left, their arms around each other, and to the right stood two people whom Harry could only assume were Lily's parents. And between them and Sirius stood a young girl, looking immensely happy, looking up at Sirius, who had his arm draped casually over her shoulder. Aunt Petunia? Harry could not believe it. Her face was not as sharp as it now was, her bones did not seem to stick out so much, and her eyes sparkled with happiness and...yes, there was definitely love in her eyes. This must have been before Sirius rejected her. He could imagine his mother begging James and Sirius to be nice to Petunia, to include her as much as possible in the wedding festivities. But that was all it had been, an act. Sirius, who had despised disloyalty and unsupportive families above all else, would never have allowed himself to love Petunia. It would have been too complicated, and it would have gone against all his principles. Harry was about to tuck the photograph into the box with the others, when something made him stop. He went over to the jewelry box, and taped it back underneath the drawer. Petunia needed it more than he did.

Remus and Petunia looked up as Harry descended the stairs, dragging his trunk, owl cage and broom behind him. (He had told a very irritable Hedwig to follow Pigwidgeon and take Ron and Hermione's responses to him later)

'Write to me, won't you?' Aunt Petunia asked, 'we're going to go on a long holiday, I think. Remus was just telling me he's confuzzed the airline to think we booked seats on a flight to Helsinki tonight months ago.' She smiled at Remus, who smiled back, genuine warmth in his eyes now.

'Bye then', Harry said awkwardly, allowing Petunia to scoop him into another tight hug. 'See you...'

'Cloak on, Harry', Remus said briskly, 'and follow me quietly. Today, I am a door-to-door salesman. Goodbye Petunia. May we meet again in happier circumstances.'

And so Harry, wrapped in his invisibility cloak and using it to cover his trunk and broom as best he could, followed Remus Lupin down the path and out the gate of Number Four, Privet Drive. He glanced back as they walked down the road, and saw Aunt Petunia standing in the doorway, her arms folded tightly across her chest as she watched them until they were out of sight.

Something told him, then, that he would never see her again.


	4. Redhill Cottage

Harry followed Remus Lupin in silence quite a distance from Privet Drive, until Remus finally came to a halt at Primrose Park, on the other side of Little Whinging. 'I'm surprised the house wasn't being guarded', he remarked under his breath, 'we're very lucky. I hid it somewhere over here, hold on...'

Glancing around to make sure nobody was watching first, Remus began to grope around in the bushes at the edge of the park. 'Ah', he said triumphantly, pulling out a rusty tin opener, 'here it is. Come on now, Harry, put a hand on it.'

Obediently, Harry placed his left hand on the portkey, while still clutching his trunk and broom. After a few seconds, he felt the familiar tugging sensation behind his navel, and closed his eyes.

When he opened them and pulled off the cloak, he was standing in a rather shabby living room, with the curtains drawn. There was an ancient, sagging couch along one wall, and a matching armchair in the corner opposite the door. There was a tiny television, an equally miniscule fireplace with a cushioned stool next to it. The bulk of the space in the room was taken up by a large, mahogany table, which was absolutely covered in papers; Daily Prophets were piled three feet high with Witch Weeklys next to them; the Quibbler pile had overbalanced and was spilling over onto a large heap of what appeared to maps. There was an assortment of other files and folders, some of which Lupin hastily shoved away to put down his briefcase and his jacket.

'This is my house, Harry', he said, rather apologetically, 'Redhill Cottage. Sorry about the mess.'

'I don't mind', Harry said truthfully, 'I like it actually.' He noticed that there were many framed photographs hung on the walls. Lupin saw the direction of his gaze and pointed to one over the fireplace. 'Our graduation day', he said, smiling sadly. Harry stepped closer to the picture, and saw Remus, Sirius, his father, his mother and two other pretty girls he did not recognize. 'Who're they?' He asked curiously.

Remus smiled again. 'The dark-haired girl was Sirius' girlfriend at the time, and the girl with the mousey hair was mine. Eva and Lucy. Lucy was one of the few girls not to care about my...problem. We got engaged shortly after graduation.'

Harry turned around. 'Why did you break up?' He asked curiously.

'She died', Remus said heavily, 'a victim of Rodolphus Lestrange, I believe.'

'I'm sorry', Harry said, really meaning it. 'And Eva?'

Remus shrugged. 'They weren't in love. They broke up a couple of months after that photograph was taken. She got a job in Beauxbatons, we never saw her again. Unfortunately, I don't have a spare room, so will you make do with the couch?' Harry pretended not to notice Remus' hasty change of subject, and answered 'sure that's okay...when am I going to the Burrow?'

'We'll stay here until the twenty fifth, then go to the Burrow. The wedding's on the twenty ninth – you know that I'm marrying Tonks then, don't you?'

Harry grinned. 'Yeah. Congratulations, I think you're a really nice couple.'

Remus grinned back, rather sheepishly. 'I love her', he said sincerely, 'I just...well, I wish Sirius was alive to see it.'

And then suddenly Harry remembered what he had been dying to tell Remus. 'I got a letter this morning', he began, opening his trunk and taking it out, 'Dumbledore sent it to me, and it doesn't say I can't tell the Order...he told Snape to kill him, Snape is still Dumbledore's man!'

Remus stared at Harry in disbelief. 'How could Dumbledore have sent his?' He asked, 'Harry...are you sure it's not a trick?'

'Fawkes delivered it', Harry said defiantly, 'it was definitely Fawkes, and this was definitely written by Dumbledore.'

Remus extended a hand. 'May I see?'

Harry passed him the letter, and Remus read it quickly, then read it a second time, running a hand through his hair absently as he did so. Eventually, he looked up. 'I suppose you can't tell me what plan he's talking about?'

Harry hesitated. 'I'd rather not, Remus'; he said at last, 'you saw what he said...I don't want to put you and Tonks in danger.'

'Promise me something, Harry', Remus said seriously, 'that if a time comes that you know you need my help, you will forget all about any danger you put me in and confide in me? Now that Sirius is gone, I would like you to allow me to fill in his position as your guardian.'

'Thanks Remus', Harry answered gratefully, 'but I think it's best if I just keep it between me, Ron and Hermione for now...but, what about Snape? Are the Order looking for him?'

'I think we can wait a few hours before we call them off', Remus said dryly, a steely glint in his eye, 'I would very much like to hear the whole story behind that, but if Dumbledore wrote it in this letter, it must be true. I should like to speak to Severus myself, when we find him.'

Harry opened his mouth to tell Remus about the other things Dumbledore had given him; the papers, the Deluminator and the Pensieve, but then closed it again quickly. He had had to show the letter, to vindicate Snape, but something told him he should keep the other items under wraps. So instead, he asked; 'what's the news about the war? I've been getting the Prophet, but it doesn't really say a lot, except for conspiracy theories about Dumbledore's death, since nobody really knows what happened, except for what I've said. The Ministry's still trying to hide as much as possible, aren't they?'

Remus sighed. 'It hasn't been easy, I must admit. The Ministry is against Voldemort, but they are limited in what action they can take while Scrimgeour remains in denial as to how serious the threat really is. He sees the Order as some sort of vigilante group, who undermine his authority. Most of the Ministry aurors are in the Order, and he knows it. He's making it very difficult for them to operate it all. Poor old Arthur Weasley discovered last week that Dawlish had been tailing him for a fortnight! He altered Dawlish's memory and removed any notes the man had made about him, of course, but still...it gave us all quite a shock.'

'Anything else?' Harry was eager for as much news as possible.

Remus racked his brains for a few moments. 'Ah yes', he said at last, 'Fred and George have been inducted into the Order, against Molly's wishes; Bill quit his job at Gringotts, he's thinking of traveling again after the wedding, seeing if they can't drum up some support for the Order from abroad; Oliver Wood has joined the Order as well, and he's got an offer from Chudley Cannons for next season; Kingsley's managed to stay on Scrimgeour's good side so he's our best source at the Ministry nowadays...I think that's about it. This little snippet about Severus will be the most exciting news we've had in a long time. The Death Eaters have been behind a few random Muggle killings, but nothing major. I was expecting them to be watching Privet Drive, but they had no idea I was coming. I only decided about ten minutes before I arrived that I would even go and get you. We decided to choose a day, but not a witch or wizard, so that Voldemort would be left guessing as to who he should have followed. I suppose it worked!'

Just then, there was a loud pop, and Nymphadora Tonks appeared in the room beside them, knocking over the delicately balanced pile of Daily Prophets. She gave Remus a huge grin and flung her arms around his neck. 'Oh Remus, it was such a long day, I just had to come and see you – what?' She noticed the direction of Remus' gaze, turned around and saw Harry. She blushed and her hair turned bright crimson, but she looked delighted to see him nonetheless. 'Harry!' She cried, rushing forwards and hugging him tightly, 'thank goodness Remus got you out safe! Did your family get out of the house okay?'

'Er yeah, flying to Helsinki I think', Harry replied, trying to extricate himself from her grip.

'Dora, Dumbledore asked Snape to kill him', Remus blurted out, 'he sent Harry a letter, Fawkes just delivered it. Dumbledore was dying anyway, and he knew the Malfoy boy was trying to kill him, so he told Snape to do it instead, to save the boy and prevent him from dying a painful death.'

Tonks' jaw dropped. She gawped first at Remus, then at Harry, as her hair went through all the colours of the rainbow and finally settled at a toxic sort of green. 'We should've known Dumbledore was right about him', she said at last, 'Dumbledore was always right about people. Gosh, we should tell Moody that then, shouldn't we? He's hunting Snape with every spare minute he has! During his tea break today he went to Ireland to have a quick scout around!'

Harry had to laugh at the image of a furious Moody striding around Ireland looking for Snape. Remus smiled too. Then Harry realised that Tonks had probably not apparated into Remus' house just to tell him she had had a long day.

'Er...is there somewhere I can go to look over the letter again?' He asked Remus meaningfully.

'Oh of course Harry, this way, bring your trunk if you like.' Remus led him down the hallway, which was equally shabby, and into the poky kitchen at the back of the house. 'Make yourself at home', he said, 'feel free to raid the cupboards, though there's not much there. If you need anything, I'll just be in the living room.'

Harry nodded and grinned, seeing that Remus was incredibly uncomfortable with the whole situation. He departed after flashing Harry a smile, leaving Harry alone in the kitchen to collect his thoughts.

He slumped into a chair at the small table and put his head in his hands. Snape was innocent. Dumbledore had asked for a mercy killing. Aunt Petunia had been in love with Sirius. Snape had been close friends with Harry's mother. Lupin had been engaged before. Draco Malfoy was apparently not as evil as he appeared. Dumbledore had left him his Pensieve. And his thoughts. Suddenly it occurred to Harry that now was the perfect occasion to test out the Pensieve on himself. Quietly, he closed the kitchen door and locked himself in. He then carefully drew the great stone bowl out of his trunk, and placed it on the table. He was not sure how to go about placing his thoughts inside the bowl, but having watched Dumbledore do it, he had a vague idea of what to do.

Focusing solely on his various thoughts about Snape and Dumbledore's relationship, Harry placed the tip his wand to his temple and slowly pulled it away. A long, misty-white string was now attached to it, and Harry could feel his mind clearing. He dropped the strand into the bowl, and watched it resolve itself into a pearly pool at the bottom of the Pensieve. It was only after he had done this that he wondered, with a jolt, if this had been a breach of the Underage Wizarding laws, which prohibited him from using his wand outside of Hogwarts until he was seventeen. But he had uttered no spell, and surely Dumbledore would have thought to include such a warning if it was necessary. He waited several moments to see if a letter would arrive from the Ministry, but nothing came, so he breathed a sigh of relief.

He poked his wand around in the Pensieve, and after a moment, the figure of Draco Malfoy rose from the bowl, staring blankly ahead. Looking at the Pensieve Draco, Harry felt a rush of pity that he had never felt when face to face with his pureblood enemy. He hesitated briefly before sticking his head into the Pensieve...

He was back in sixth year, walking past a classroom, where he could hear Draco and Snape arguing. That was right, he remembered now; Snape had offered Draco help, but Draco had taken offence to the implication that he was incompetent. Had Snape offered assistance in the hopes that Draco would abandon his task and make Snape's that much easier? It must have been difficult for Snape, keeping a constant eye on Draco's movements. Had Draco known what Snape was up to?...

He was on the roof of Hogwarts, trapped behind a door, unable to move. He was watching as Draco Malfoy struggled to make himself kill Dumbledore...Dumbledore had remained so calm throughout the whole affair...it was because he had known this moment was coming, and he welcomed death at the hands of a friend...Snape was his friend, above and beyond all others, although Harry hated to admit it...

Before the next scene could resolve itself into anything recognizable, Harry heard a distant voice calling his name. He jerked his head out of his thoughts, shoved the Pensieve under the table and with shaking hands unlocked the kitchen door. Remus was standing there, a letter in his hand. He was even paler than usual, his eyes wide with shock.

'What's happened?' Harry asked urgently, 'is someone hurt? Did they kill Snape?'

'We've just got an owl', Remus said, sounding dazed, 'from Moody. He just heard from a source that the Malfoys are dead. All three of them.'

'_What?'_ Harry could not believe it. 'How? Where? When?'

'Kingsley was using Fred and George's Extendable Ears to listen to Higgins's office. He heard him tell someone he had called to the Manor to see why Lucius hadn't been in contact with him – they were old friends from school and there had been one or two rumours that Voldemort had paid a visit to the house. He found Lucius' body floating upside above the entrance gate, with the Dark Mark in the sky above it. The entire house was destroyed by fiendfyre – do you know what that is?' Harry shook his head, so Remus continued. 'It's a magical fire, a sort of monster that wizards can unleash if they know the right curses, but it's very difficult to control, and highly illegal.'

'Did they find Draco and Narcissa?' Harry asked quickly, remembering, with a jolt, his dream of fire of the previous night.

'Yes', Remus replied, 'they appeared to have jumped from a window. They were in the garden. Narcissa's body was very badly burnt, but Draco's was barely damaged at all. We're not sure how he died really, but Voldemort clearly murdered the whole family for their mistakes.'

'Draco's not dead then', Harry said firmly, 'I bet he was hiding somewhere, heard what was going to happen to his parents and went home. He probably tried to save his mother, that's why he jumped out the window with her. They'd know if he'd died from the Killing Curse, wouldn't they?'

Remus nodded thoughtfully. 'It would be clear from the victim's face', he answered, 'so is your theory that Draco Malfoy has merely transfigured something or someone to look like him, and is gone back into hiding?'

'Yes', Harry said, realizing that the Pensieve had enabled him to think more clearly already.

'If that is the case, then he is in grave danger', Remus said wearily, 'and he had better hope that Voldemort does not discover his trick. Keep it between ourselves for now, Harry. There's nothing we can do for him now anyway.'

Despite the constant sniping and rivalry that had existed between Harry and Malfoy since they had met, Harry couldn't help but recall Dumbledore's letter, and wonder whether Malfoy's heart had ever been in his attempts to kill the headmaster. Perhaps he had only been forced to obey Voldemort because he hoped it would stop the Dark Lord from killing his parents. Harry fervently hoped that Draco had not really died that night.

Harry spent the next couple of hours talking to Remus and Tonks. Eventually, Tonks took her leave of them and Remus went to bed shortly afterwards. Harry settled down to sleep in the living room, but found that he couldn't; he was tempted to go through all the things Dumbledore had left him, or read his mother's letters to his aunt, but he decided against this. His mind was already too busy with all the twists and turns things had taken in the past twenty-four hours. He lay on the couch, staring at the jam jar in which he had placed his thoughts, watching them swirl around in a chaotic fashion. It was about four o'clock in the morning when a faint tapping at the window alerted Harry to the arrival of Hedwig. He crept to the window, opened the catch to let her in, then closed it again. She had two letters attached to one of her legs, one from Ron and one from Hermione. Harry opened Ron's letter first.

_What's up with Hedwig, she seems pretty cranky! I guess you're at whoever's house you've been moved to, hope it's nice! Listen, I've got some news for you. Dad just got home from the Ministry and I heard him waking up Bill, Charlie, Fred and George (they're in the Order now, by the way). The Muggle Prime Minister's just been murdered by a bunch of Death Eaters. The house he was living in is a pile of rubble now, his family is buried under it, we dunno if they're alive or dead. Kingsley's underneath it too, he was working late. Moody went sort of mad, he killed three men he knew were Death Eaters who were working at the Ministry, so now there's a warrant out for his arrest. Dad doesn't know I heard any of this (God bless Extendable Ears), and I think it's being kept quiet for now. I doubt you'll see it in the Prophet. Anyway, it's made all this Hermione stuff seem less important. I suppose you're right about it. Take it easy Harry, we can talk about serious stuff when you get here, just relax 'til then_

_See ya_

_Ron. _

Harry put the letter down and rubbed his eyes ferociously, his head beginning to ache again. So that was why Voldemort had not been focusing on Harry's departure from Privet Drive; he was too intent on asserting his supremacy over Muggles to worry about Harry for the time being. He turned to Hermione's note.

_Hi again Harry!_

_That fire is called fiendfyre I think – why would you dream about that I wonder? It's very rarely used. We can talk about it when I see you. _

_I hope things went okay with your family, and you're safe now, and that Hedwig can find you. And don't worry; I'll pass your message on to Ginny. I'm sure she understands, Harry, so try not to dwell on it too much. This will all be over soon enough. _

_Relax for now, get some rest and we can start working our brains again when we meet. _

'_Til then! Love Hermione_

Harry folded the two letters and stuffed them in his pocket, amused. Both of his friends had advised him to relax, and he knew they were right. He was slightly disturbed by his dream of fiendfyre, which he assumed had been the destruction of Malfoy Manor, but dwelling on it would not help. And so he lay down on the shabby but comfortable couch, and for once was able to let go of everything that he knew, and descend into a peaceful sleep, where he walked through the grounds of Hogwarts, hand in hand with Ginny.


End file.
